


Succour

by Anobii1992



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, No character death!, Resolution of the Daleks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:28:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27528448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anobii1992/pseuds/Anobii1992
Summary: Dying.It wasn't how Yaz thought it would be. Not that she had ever spent much time thinking about it. But standing in a dirty, dingey warehouse facing down a Dalek really wasn't what she had pictured.As the Dalek trundled ever closer down the long hallway Yaz realised that, in a strange way, she was glad the Doctor had gone first.
Comments: 49
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter 1

Dying.

It wasn't how Yaz thought it would be. Not that she had ever spent much time thinking about it. When she had been a teenager it had nearly happened at her own hands, and when she had joined the police force it had been an ever present thought every time her radio crackled. Would this be the time that her number was up?

But standing in a dirty, dingey warehouse facing down a dalek really wasn't what she had pictured.

_EXTERMINATE!_

Yaz was backed against a wall with nowhere to run. Not this time.

As plans went, it hadn't been a bad one necessarily. In fact, it had been very Doctorish really. But it had been missing one key element. The Doctor. 

Hopefully, Ryan and Graham would still be able to carry out their part of their plan without her. 

_EXTERMINATE!_

They would be upset of course, but they were both used to loss. They had taken the Doctor's death four years ago in their stride. Had kept going and picked up the pieces of their own lives while she had floundered, much to her family's concern.

Her family. 

What would happen to them? 

Her parents would be devastated, she knew that. They had been terrified when she had first joined the police force. Sonya said that every time the door knocked when Yaz was at work they flinched. Sonya would cope. She would be strong for her parents and hopefully she would move on with her life. She didn't want this one event to ruin her family.

_EXTERMINATE!_

As the Dalek trundled ever closer down the long hallway Yaz realised, that in a strange way, she was almost glad the Doctor had gone first. She was a woman who allowed herself to be consumed by guilt and while they had never even got close to scratching the surface with her in regards to why she detested Daleks so much, or indeed knew anything about her really, Yaz had known her well enough to know that she never would have forgiven herself for this. She would have allowed the guilt to eat her alive. No, it was better this way and she tried to take comfort in that. 

_EXTERMINATE!_

This time the battle cry was accompanied with a flash of blue light and Yaz knew she had seconds left. She wanted to be brave. She wanted to stare down that Dalek, show it she wasn't afraid.

But she was. 

She was so very afraid. 

_EXTERMINATE!_

Yaz squeezed her eyes shut. She had never felt more alone than she did right now. 

If she could have anyone with her right now, it would be the Doctor. Maybe she would be waiting for her when it was over. On the other side or whatever.

_EXTERMINATE!_

"Oi! Dalek!" came a voice from her left.

Yaz smiled. She knew that voice. It was the Doctor's.

But that meant that she had to be dead. Because the Doctor was dead.

She had sacrificed herself years ago to save the lives of her friends.

At least dying had been quick. And it hadn't hurt the way she had expected it to. 

These were clearly her last conscious thoughts and her brain had thought up the one person in the universe who she would want to comfort her at this moment.

Yaz could hear the mechanical whir as the Dalek turned to look at the Doctor. 

Yaz realised that she didn't want to see her. She might be dead, but it would hurt too much. 

_"YOU WILL BE EXTERMINATED!"_

There was a cold, hollow laugh. Yaz knew she was definitely dead because the Doctor had never made such an awful sound before. 

"Oh mate I really don't think so."

She sounded furious. Almost beyond fury. Her voice was virtually robotic. There wasn't a hint of the warmth and love that had always been there before. Even when she had been grieving for Gallifrey she hadn't sounded like that.

 _"YOU WILL BE EXTERMINATED!"_ the Dalek screeched again.

"Run." the Doctor's voice had switched again, it was low and dangerous. 

Was this the last few synapses of her brain firing? Yaz wasn't sure. She certainly wouldn't want to stand up against the Doctor in such a fury. If she was going to hallucinate the Doctor in her last moments, why couldn't she have just remembered her how she was.

_"DALEKS DO NOT RUN! WE ARE SUPERIOR! YOU WILL BE EXTERMINATED!"_

"Check your records again mate. Because I'm the Doctor. And you tried to kill my best friend Yasmin Khan. That was a very stupid move. We can't have a universe with no Yaz."

Yaz smiled slightly. The tone was still all wrong but the words sounded right.

There was another mechanical whir. Had the Dalek actually retreated a little?

Yaz forced herself to open her eyes and look. But she wished she hadn't. That woman... it wasn't the Doctor.

Had four years really done so much to distort her memories? Or was this simply the best her dying brain could come up with? Being dead suddenly didn't feel so easy anymore. 

Gone were the colourful rainbows, billowing coat, too short trousers and ridiculous bright yellow braces. Instead she was clad in the most disgustingly filthy, burgundy jumpsuit, encrusted in what looked like centuries worth of grime. Her feet were bare and just as dirty while her hair, slick with grease, fell in a long, tangled matt to her waist. She was frighteningly thin, bruised and battered. But it was her face Yaz couldn't bare to look at. 

There was a large cut running down one cheek, still weeping blood.

But that wasn't what was so wrong with it. 

It was twisted and contorted with rage. Hate burned behind those eyes. It was terrifying.

Yaz realised that she had been holding onto a last shred of hope that this was all real when the Doctor pulled out a gun and the hope fell away.

This definitely wasn't real.

_Guns. Never use 'em._

But Yaz couldn't stop watching. The Doctor's hands were steady as she raised the enormous weapon in front of her, it was certainly bigger than any earth gun she had ever seen. It reminded her of the sort of obscene weapon they always seemed to have in sci-fi movies. Probably why she was hallucinating it. Ryan loved sci-fi, she watched them a lot with him.

_"THE DOCTOR DOES NOT USE WEAPONS. RECORDS INDICATE THAT YOU ARE A COWARD."_

The not Doctor let out that awful laugh again. "Your records are out of date."

Yaz shuddered. That voice was so jarring. So far away from everything Yaz had ever associated with the Doctor. She hated it. 

The Doctor aimed the gun at the dalek's eye stalk and fired.

The Dalek screamed. A cold, agony filled scream.

 _"MY VISION IS IMPAIRED! I CANNOT SEE! EMERGENCY! EMERGENCY! MY VISION IS IMPAIRED!"_ it screeched in its horrible, metallic voice. 

The not Doctor stood steady, cold and unflinching. 

"Do not mess with my friends Dalek."

_"I CANNOT SEE! EMERGENCY! EMERGENCY! HELP! I CANNOT SEE!"_

Yaz couldn't bear to watch. The Doctor was torturing it and she was just watching.

Why was her brain doing this to her? It was cruel. She just wanted the dying part to be over and to just be dead. To be in nothingness. She felt so cold watching the not Doctor like this.

Yaz was glad it wasn't real. The Doctor had been many things but cruel was never one of them.

She was warm and loving and kind and funny and good and merciful and despite the obvious pain she carried around with her, she never, ever sought revenge.

_"HELP ME! HELP ME! I CANNOT SEE!"_

"You deserve it."

She sounded... satisfied. 

Yaz hated to watch but she couldn't turn away either.

The Dalek was definitely dying. It was getting into... almost like a panic. It was horrific to witness.

Finally, finally it was over. The Dalek's eye stalk dropped and it was still. There was a hiss and some sort of vile smelling goo leaked out of its casing.

With a jolt, Yaz realised that it was the squid like creature that lived inside. The one that she had seen at New Year's, all those years ago. She felt sick. She hoped all of the afterlife wouldn't be like this. 

The Doctor stared at the casing of the dead Dalek. She raised the gun for a second time and shot it again and again and again.

Only when the gun seemed to be out of charge or bullets or whatever it had did she stop. She dropped the gun on the ground with a loud clatter, breathing heavily.

Yaz didn't move, her feet felt like they had grown roots or something. 

She watched the not Doctor and realised she was afraid of her. In all their travels together, Yaz had never been afraid of her. Afraid of the situation she had found herself in sure. But never afraid of the Doctor. 

And she wasn’t even real/

When she finally turned round and looked at Yaz, to her shame, Yaz actually shrank away from her. This was far more terrifying than the Dalek had been. 

"Yaz."

That single word. The first time she had acknowledged Yaz's presence. 

"I didn't think it would be like this." Yaz whispered.

"What?"

"Being dead."

"You're not dead Yaz."

"You're dead."

"No, I'm not."

She walked closer. 

Staggered more like. She looked dreadful. 

"Being dead doesn't suit you. You look terrible."

Yaz realised that she was giggling. 

"Yaz I’m not dead and neither are you.”

"You are. You blew yourself up on Gallifrey without even saying goodbye."

The Doctor reached out and grabbed Yaz's hand. Her own was freezing cold and disturbingly bony. She pressed it against her chest. 

Yay could feel her distinct double heartbeat despite the coarse fabric of her jumpsuit.

"Doctor?" Yaz whispered.

"Hi Yaz."

"Where... how... why...?" Yaz stuttered, as her brain tried to catch up with what was happening. She looked at the Doctor and realised that the other woman was trembling violently.

"Doctor, are you...?" she started to ask but without warning the Doctor's eyes rolled back in her skull and she collapsed bonelessly in a heap. Yaz just managed to catch her before she hit the ground.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as promised there is lots of comfort in this one sort of but I didn't quite manage to get Ryan and Graham in so I'll turn it into a three parter!

Ryan and Graham had appeared a few minutes later and had been just as shocked as Yaz had been to see the Doctor, who by that point had been deeply unconscious on the cold, dirty floor. They had helped Yaz manhandle her into the car and carried her to the tiny flat Yaz rented on the far side of town. Even as she had been carried up six flights of stairs she hadn't stirred. That had been several hours ago and she still remained stubbornly unconscious, lying on the sofa with a blanket wrapped around her. Ryan and Graham had left a while ago but Yaz was sitting in the arm chair, watching her friend sleep. She was terrified that if she left her, the Doctor would disappear again. 

She clearly wasn't well. Her breathing was harsh and ragged. Besides what Yaz had noticed earlier, when they had carried her in, she had noticed deep bruising around her wrists, her feet were badly battered, in fact Yaz was amazed that she had been standing at all as they definitely looked like they could have been broken, and that was just what she could see. They had toyed with changing her into a pair of pyjamas but it was clear that she had been gone for a long time, probably longer than the four years it had been for them, and who knew what she had been through in that time. And she had always been intensely private. It felt wrong to just strip her when she couldn’t consent, not without an unavoidable, urgent need.

As Yaz watched the Doctor sleep, her brain felt like it was in overdrive as she tried to work out what had transpired after the events on Gallifrey that had meant the Doctor had escaped from what seemed like certain death and what on earth she had been through in the meantime. 

Eventually Yaz slipped into a doze beside the sleeping Timelord but as the first, weak rays of sunshine poked through the curtains she stretched and opened her eyes, then sat up with a start. The Doctor was staring at her. 

"Hi." Yaz greeted nervously. 

The gun was currently hidden under her bed but Yaz was still wary. She had been nothing like the Doctor she remembered yesterday. She had been intimidating, frightening and… cruel.

"Yaz?" the Doctor asked. She was blinking rapidly like she was trying to clear something out of her eye. 

"Yeah." 

"Oh... brilliant." the Doctor mumbled and with that she was out again, her head dropping back onto the pillow. 

Yaz watched her sleep for a little longer but when it appeared she wasn't going to wake again any time soon she headed for a shower and change of clothes. When she emerged there was still no sign of the Doctor waking so she went into the kitchen to make something to eat. In times past, the smell of cooking food had been a sure fire way to attract the Doctor though in their last few months together she had been so intent on avoiding her friends that it had sometimes felt like it would take a nuclear bomb to attract her attention and possibly not even then.

Yaz fried some eggs and halal sausages and buttered some bread but despite the fragrant smell that soon permeated the entire flat, the Doctor still didn't wake. Yaz decided against waking her, she didn't think she had ever seen the Doctor sleep voluntarily, usually she had seemed to just pass out, draped over the central console in the TARDIS when her body couldn’t take any more so she clearly needed the rest. 

As the morning wore on Yaz fielded a few texts from Ryan and Graham. They had both offered to come over but what was the point? It wasn't like it took three of them to watch her sleep and with the Doctor currently taking up the entire sofa, there wasn't really room for them both anyway. As the afternoon started to drift towards evening Yaz was beginning to feel more concerned. At an absolute minimum it was about forty-eight hours since the Doctor had eaten, drunk or used the bathroom. But then again, she was an alien. How often did she have to do those things? Yaz wracked her brain, trying to remember their time on the TARDIS more specifically. The Doctor had certainly joined them regularly for mealtimes but was that her just being sociable. When she had stopped joining them, had she eaten at other times or just gone without? From what little Yaz could see of her, it certainly didn't look like she could afford to lose any more weight. Yaz lightly rested the back of her hand against the Doctor's forehead. It was cold, unsurprisingly. But Yaz was really struggling to remember if it was normal Doctor cold or too cold. She had always been so funny about being touched. She, Ryan and Graham had touched each other casually all the time, a family hug or grabbing a hand to run or a soothing pat on the back when the day had been tough but the Doctor had always shied away from any of that and they hadn't pushed. She decided to give her a hot water bottle and an extra blanket just in case. 

Still reluctant to leave the Doctor alone Yaz brought her duvet and pillows in from the bedroom and set herself up on the floor on an air mattress. 

Yaz woke abruptly a little after three in the morning though she wasn’t sure why. She slowly shifted under the duvet and rolled over to her other side. That’s when she heard it again. 

Was it…? No, it couldn’t be… Was the Doctor _crying_? 

Yaz sat up and switched on the small table lamp beside her. 

The Doctor was definitely awake this time and she hid her face in the blanket as soon as the soft glow filled the room. Yaz untangled herself from the duvet and got up, crouching beside the sofa. 

“Doctor, it’s Yaz…” Yaz started to say and then trailed off when she realised she had no idea what to say. 

She gently pulled the blanket away from the Doctor’s face and the Doctor finally, finally looked at her. 

“Hi” Yaz greeted her softly. 

The Doctor didn’t speak, just blinked blearily. 

While her body had been still while she slept, Yaz noticed that the visible trembling had returned again. 

The Doctor reached out and lightly touched Yaz’s cheek, like she wasn’t sure if it was real. She swallowed thickly. 

“How long?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. Hoarse and almost unrecognisable. Like she was out of practice. 

“Have you been asleep? About two and half days. Since Gallifrey? A little over four years.” Yaz answered. “You?” 

“Longer. Too long.” 

Yaz stared at her. 

“I really don’t know… I lost track somewhere around forty years.” She admitted quietly. 

“Forty… Oh Doctor.” 

Yaz longed to reach out and hug her but she didn’t think it was a good idea. Forty years though. She hadn’t even been born. Graham had been a teenager. The thought made her feel sick. 

Yaz realised she was staring at her again. She felt so out of her depth. 

“I think you need a shower.” 

Yaz mentally kicked herself. What a stupid thing to say. 

“I could look at those injuries for you.” She added carefully, wary of spooking her. She looked terrified. And after her display yesterday, Yaz really, really didn't want to get on the wrong side of her. 

The Doctor nodded and weakly struggled into a sitting position. Now she was apparently more lucid she seemed to be in a lot of pain and incredibly weak. Where her strength had come from in the warehouse Yaz had no idea but it was certainly gone now. 

“Can you walk?” Yaz asked her gently. 

The Doctor nodded but she didn’t look sure and as she pushed herself to her feet she swayed alarmingly, hissing in pain, and Yaz caught her round her waist. 

The Doctor visibly flinched at the contact but Yaz didn’t let go, worried she would collapse again if she did. Instead she supported her carefully as she steered her towards the bathroom, mindful that she probably had further injuries hiding under the jumpsuit. 

Yaz showed her where everything was, gave her some pyjamas and a towel and then left her to it, heading back into the main room of her flat and closing the door softly behind her.

She listened out but couldn't hear the noise of the shower yet. She texted Ryan to let him know that the Doctor was awake and apparently less homicidal... they had been worried about leaving Yaz alone with her. That thought alone made Yaz feel sick. They had felt many things about the Doctor, especially in their later travels with her as she had become more and more withdrawn, isolated and increasingly short tempered. But they had never been afraid of her.

Just after she had finished texting Ryan Yaz heard a muffled thump followed by a crash coming from the bathroom.

She knocked hesitantly, worried about what the Doctor might get up to unsupervised, vividly remembering the last time the Doctor had been in the Khan flat and she had rewired the microwave to be controlled by the TV so that the popcorn would be made automatically. 

Yaz knocked.

"Doctor, are you okay in there?" she called.

There was no answer. 

Yaz knocked again.

"Doctor, I'm coming in." Yaz warned her and she gently pushed the door open. 

"Doctor!" she shouted, rushing in. The Doctor had collapsed again in a heap and she looked utterly confused and humiliated as Yaz helped her up. 

Given her fragile physical (and probably mental) state, Yaz deposited the Doctor onto the toilet seat and started running the bath rather than trusting her to stay upright in the shower. Yaz watched as the Doctor fumbled with the fastenings on the jump suit and she gently took the Doctor’s hands and helped her. The Doctor flushed but she didn’t look like she had the energy to protest and she allowed Yaz to ease her out of the jump suit and she held onto Yaz’s shoulder for balance as Yaz helped her step out of it. 

Yaz was hyper aware of just how much the Doctor was trusting her as she stood on wobbly legs and allowed Yaz to all but lift her into the bath. She gave a not quite supressed groan of pain as she was carefully lowered into the water and it lapped at her battered and bruised skin. 

Yaz did her best to hide her feelings of… shock, disgust, dismay… which were all battling for dominance as she took in the state of the Doctor’s body and the Doctor tucked her knees up under her chest self-consciously. There was barely an inch of skin that wasn’t marred by bruising, scars, grazes and deep cuts, some of which appeared to be infected. She could count every single one of her ribs and vertebrae while the bones of her pelvis and shoulders jutted out alarmingly. Sure she had always been slim but she had also been strong and toned despite the extraordinary number of sweets she ate and while Yaz had never once seen her in a state of undress she was positive she hadn’t looked like this. One arm had a noticeable bend in it from an break that hadn't healed properly that Yaz was sure hadn’t been there before and the deep welts that Yaz had noticed around her wrists were also present around her ankles and waist. 

Despite the warm bathroom and hot water the Doctor was still shaking violently, from cold, fear, nerves or something else, Yaz wasn’t sure. She seemed to have clocked out completely and she gave no reaction as Yaz gently washed her with a facecloth. She was so filthy Yaz had to refill the bath water four times as she bathed her but her hair was proving a bigger problem. It clearly hadn’t had any kind of attention in a very long time and Yaz wasn’t even sure it was salvageable. She raided her stock and came up with three bottles of conditioner that she had got in a special offer a while back but hadn’t used yet and emptied the lot over the Doctor’s head, coating her hair in the thick, creamy, coconut scented mixture and massaging it in as best she could. They let it sit for a few minutes before Yaz eased her back so she was partially laying down under the spray from the shower head above the bath and started to rinse the conditioner out. They were at it for what felt like an age, the water around the Doctor was swirling greys and browns as the filth was cleansed from her body and hair and when the water finally ran clean Yaz wrapped her in the biggest towel she owned and carried her through to the bedroom where she kept a well stocked first aid kit. It wasn’t going to be much but it was better than nothing. 

"Can I look at your injuries?" Yaz asked. "I'll be very gentle." she prompted when the Doctor didn't answer.

Finally the Doctor nodded and Yaz opened her first aid kit. It was a reasonably good one, she much preferred to treat minor injuries from exercising or work on her own but given the absolute state of the Doctor's body Yaz knew it wasn't going to do much. Hopefully she still healed as fast as she always had though looking at the state of her Yaz doubted it very much. 

Yaz wasn't sure where to start and eventually just went with starting at the top and working her way down though something told her she should leave the cuts on her face and the complete mess that was her feet until the end. Yaz picked a spot on her left shoulder that had a long, thin, deep cut and realised that it had been caused by a whip. Someone had actually whipped her. She felt sick. Thanks to the shower, the Doctor's wounds were at least clean now but Yaz dabbed antiseptic along them, added plasters where she could, a few dressings on larger cuts and bandages around her broken feet. The last one caused a tiny moan of pain to escape past her lips.

"I'm going to do the cut on your face now." Yaz warned. The cut started in her hair line, cut through her eyebrow and looped down her cheek, flicking off past her ear. It was horrible but it's depth and the smooth edges... it had been made by a knife. 

Yaz had gone to extra training at work to help her get a promotion which had involved looking at injuries and how to identify what had caused them that had been run by the pathology team. It had been gruesome but worked as she was now a well respected sergeant, working her way to Detective. The Doctor would have been proud of her for that though she knew the woman in front of her wasn’t that person.

What the actual fuck had happened to her? Where had she been?

Yaz cleaned the cut as gently as she could with some cotton buds, the Doctor kept recoiling from her which made it more difficult, and when she was done, she helped her into the pyjamas, some thick, fluffy socks and, because she was still shivering, a huge hoodie that Yaz had stolen from Ryan. It absolutely swamped her tiny figure, falling almost to her knees and Yaz rolled the too long sleeves up several times. Had she always been this small? Yaz remembered her much bigger.

"I'm going to try and sort your hair, is that okay?" 

The Doctor nodded. Since the few words they had exchanged on the sofa she hadn't uttered another sound. Yaz picked up her hairbrush and pulled a few stray hairs off of it before she climbed up behind her on the bed and sprayed her with a liberal dose of leave in conditioner. 

Yaz knew she must be hurting her, but the Doctor made no complaint as she took her hair in small sections and all but attacked it with the brush. It took a long time, several hours in fact, to rid her of the tangles and when they were done, they washed it properly with shampoo. Yaz dried it and bound it in a long plait for her. The Doctor still didn't utter a word, not even when Yaz helped her into the kitchen on her sore feet and fed her one fried egg sandwich after another, until Yaz ran out of eggs and then the Doctor ate every biscuit she could find, some leftover sweets from Halloween and a huge multipack of crisps Yaz kept around for Ryan. Between Graham and her mum who were both convinced she didn't eat enough and couldn't look after herself, her cupboards were always well stocked. She could but the Doctor’s death had hit her hard and at the time she had struggled and they both still worried about her. Well her not Death apparently.

A not death for the not Doctor. This husk of a person that was huddled at her table scarfing down everything she could get her hands on wasn’t someone Yaz knew. She wasn’t the same as the frankly terrifying being she had been a few days ago up against the Dalek. She wasn’t the happy go lucky, overly enthusiastic and slightly annoying puppy she had been when they had first met. She wasn’t the sullen, silent, brooding teenager she had been after their first encounter with the Master. She was… someone else entirely right now.

By the time the Doctor had eaten most of the contents of Yaz’s fridge including an entire packet of butter straight from the packet and an open tin of baked beans Yaz had been meaning to throw out for more than a week the Doctor looked like she was going to pass out again. She was swaying where she sat but Yaz had noticed that her eyes, huge and wary, never left her for a moment.

“Come on, why don’t you get some more sleep.” Yaz suggested gently. “Bed or sofa?”

Yaz wasn’t particularly surprised when she offered no response, but she didn’t protest as Yaz carefully helped her to her feet and half carried her back to the sofa. Her poor feet just looked so painful, Yaz didn’t know what had been done to them though how she had kept herself upright and steady on them when facing down the Dalek she had no idea.

Yaz attempted to lower the Doctor to the sofa but she protested noisily albeit not verbally. She pushed Yaz away from her and lurched over to the corner of the room, crashing into the coffee table and holding herself up using the wall. Seemingly satisfied she sank down to the floor and curled up tightly, her eyes wide and watching.

Yaz felt sick as she realised what was happening. Where had she been and what had they done to her to produce this response? She had chosen the one spot in the flat where she could watch all entrances and exits and she had a clear getaway. Yaz attempted to offer her the blanket and pillow that she had been using earlier in the day but retreated quickly when the Doctor actually snarled at her for coming too close.

Yaz swallowed nervously. More than forty years was a very long time. Hell, the four years it had been for her was a very long time. It hit her heart like a bullet. They were strangers to each other now. And as Yaz watched the Doctor in the corner of the room, she couldn’t help but wonder, was there even anything left of the woman she had known?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure about how I've ended this, it's essentially in four parts, hope it makes sense. Thankyou for all your support and encouragement while I've been writing this, if you liked it I would love it if you could leave me a comment!
> 
> TW- psychiatric care, mention of past suicide attempts

Before she would let Ryan and Graham come over, Yaz had spent an hour on the phone with them. They wanted to see her, of course they wanted to see her, but she was so far from the woman they remembered and Yaz didn't want their expectations of that person to frighten the Doctor. She was... Yaz wasn't sure how to describe her. In the little over a week they had spent together since the Dalek, it was almost impossible to see her friend. She was almost... feral. She made sounds but hadn't spoken since the few words she had said on the sofa. Yaz hadn't persuaded her back to the sofa either, instead she had made what Yaz could only describe as a nest in the corner of the room, except it wasn't really even that. Although Yaz had offered her blankets and pillows, the Doctor didn't seem to want them. She stayed in the corner, curled up tightly though Yaz had noticed that she was very careful not to put any weight on her injured feet which didn't really seem to be getting any better... in fact bruising had started to show on them, turning them purple and if anything, they now looked worse. Yaz was fairly sure they were a crush injury, but it was impossible to tell and the Doctor certainly wasn't sharing. 

The one thing the Doctor did respond to was food. She ate anything Yaz gave her, but she had also, Yaz noticed, started helping herself to the cupboards when Yaz was asleep. While this wasn't a problem in itself, of course she could have whatever she wanted, she was bingeing. Yaz never knew what food would be left in the morning, but heartbreakingly, the Doctor was attempting to hide the evidence of her late night binges. Yaz wasn't sure if it was worse that she was trying to hide them or worse that she did such a terrible job at it. She had decided not to mention it. There were so many issues that Yaz was worrying about, her bizarre eating habits weren't making the top of the list. 

There was a light knock on the door. 

"Doctor, Ryan and Graham are here, I'm going to let them in now. They're going to sit on the sofa." Yaz explained. She had already told the Doctor that they were coming but she hadn't reacted. How she was going to react when they appeared Yaz didn't know. 

Yaz let them in and greeted both men with a hug. They had remained close over the years, the only people who really understood what they had been through. They had helped her move into her flat and understood her when her mental health had plummeted after the Doctor's death... not death. 

"Have a seat" Yaz invited, gesturing to the sofa.

If Ryan and Graham were shocked, they didn't show it. Yaz had prepared them well over the phone, but the sight of her curled up on the floor in the corner... her body tense and wearing a hideous, billowing night dress that Yaz's nani had given her but she had never worn, because it seemed to be the only thing she could tolerate next to her skin... it was totally heart-breaking. 

"Hi Doc." Graham greeted softly, keeping his distance like Yaz had told him to.

"Hi" Ryan echoed. 

The Doctor didn't respond, just watched them warily. 

Trying to make things more normal, Yaz went into the kitchen to make a round of tea. She put the Doctor's into a travel mug, her hands were a shaky wreck, and she had learned from past experience that the Doctor couldn't cope with a communal plate of anything so she put a handful of biscuits onto a separate plate and approached slowly, handing them over. 

Ryan watched as the Doctor snatched the food, stuffing it into her mouth so fast he was worried she would choke, her cheeks bulging like she was a hamster.

"Yaz love, I think she needs help. Proper help." Graham whispered, watching the Doctor in disbelief.

"I know, but where do we find it? We can't risk a hospital here; all it'll take is one listen to her chest before they call in the men with white coats like it’s bloody E.T. or something."

"We'll get it for her love."

"How?"

"I don't know Yaz, but we'll get it for her. Until then, we just have to take care of her the best we can."

"Why do I feel like the worst person in the world?" Yaz whispered to Graham.

"This is the best thing for her love, you know that."

"I know... but she hates hospitals and we've just had her committed... you didn't see her, she was so relieved when she realised where she was."

"Yaz you can't take care of her. Not when she's this sick. You haven't been able to go to work in six weeks and she's not getting any better, she needs this."

"I know." Yaz choked out.

There was a knock on the door. They were here. 

It had taken weeks to find help, in the end it as the arrival of Captain Jack Harkness showing up unexpectedly, he put them in touch with The Healing Centre, a hospital renowned across galaxies for the care of mentally ill patients. Apparently.

Yaz went to stand protectively beside the Doctor while Ryan answered the door and showed them in.

The healers, not doctors or nurses or psychiatrists, entered calmly, their flowing white robes billowing slightly as they walked. They were human in appearance, but apparently, they were able to take the form that would provide the most reassurance to their patients so what they looked like naturally, Yaz had no idea. 

There were four of them, three men and a woman. The man who looked the oldest, if you could judge based on his snowy white hair, walked over to the Doctor and crouched down on the floor in front of her, speaking to her quietly. Yaz couldn’t hear what the man was saying but whatever it was, the Doctor clearly disagreed with it.

The Doctor reacted violently, she screamed and shoved him out of her way and then grabbed at Yaz, causing her to stumble and fall, and then clinging tightly to her. 

They had debated whether to pre-warn her or not, eventually they had gone with the advice of the healing centre which said not to in case she took off. Privately, they had all agreed but now Yaz was wondering if that had been the wrong decision as the Doctor burrowed herself into Yaz's jumper, full of emotions that went beyond simple terror. It was the only physical contact they had had since Yaz had helped her shower when she first arrived. 

"Doctor, these people are going to help you." Yaz explained soothingly. "You're safe, they won't hurt you. We only want for you to be feeling better."

But Yaz very much doubted that the Doctor could hear her as she screamed, trying to get away from the healers who were moving in closer and knowing she was trapped.

The older man and the lone woman both tried to speak to the Doctor. Presumably they were very good at their jobs however the Doctor was long past the point of being reasoned with and eventually the smallest man stepped forward, a needle shining in his hand.

If Yaz thought the Doctor was distressed before she saw the needle, it was nothing compared to how she was when she saw it and all four of the healers descended on her, pinning her in place so the small one could slide the needle into the Doctor's arm.

For a moment nothing happened, the Doctor continued to struggle and fight and then all of a sudden, like someone had hit her over the head with an invisible mallet, her eyes rolled back in her head and she slid gracelessly towards the ground. 

She looked so incredibly frightened and Yaz held her close, rocking her gently, as she sobbed desperately. Yaz could feel the sedative working as the Doctor became weaker and heavier in her arms until, mercifully, it seemed to work. Her eyes shut and her body stilled.

The fourth member of the party who had been observing passed Yaz a small gold watch with a dial on it.

"Our days’ work differently to yours but when the dial glows blue and vibrates that means it's visiting hours for us. Turn it one full turn clockwise and you'll be transported to our facility. One turn anti-clockwise will send you home. It will return you home precisely ten minutes after you left. If it glows red, it means there’s an emergency and we need you to come in right away."

"Will she be okay?" asked Graham.

"She'll spend time in our assessment unit first, then we can put together a treatment plan. You did the right thing. "

"How long will she be a patient?" Ryan asked.

"Impossible to say at this point. Some of our patients are with us for just a few weeks, others are with us for years or even decades. When she's had her assessment, her personal team will be able to give you more information." 

"Can we come with her now."

"There's no need. She'll be out for a while and then her therapy team will be able to welcome her."

"I'm sorry Doctor." Yaz whispered, kissing the Doctor on the cheek. "I'm sorry we couldn't make you better."

She allowed the healers to take over and she stumbled backwards towards Ryan and Graham who both wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders as they all said their goodbyes.

The Doctor had been in the hospital - healing centre - for a few months and Yaz had been going to visit her what was every day for her though for Yaz it was more like every three days. Graham and Ryan went too, the centre seemed to have two visiting times per day and the bracelets were synchronised so that they never went at the same time, meaning the Doctor had more company overall. 

Yaz wasn't sure which was harder, visiting her or not visiting her. At first the Doctor wouldn't even look at Yaz, clearly feeling too betrayed. She was hard to look at too, she was still far too thin and incredibly pale. Her hair was still down almost to her knees in a dirty tangle because she wouldn't let anyone close enough to cut it and she had no idea how to look after it. She hobbled rather than walked because she refused to let anyone try and fix the damage to her feet, and although she had been provided with both a wheelchair and a walking stick to try and alleviate some of the pain from her feet, she point blank refused either. On the other hand, the injuries that had marred her skin had healed. She had scars of all shapes, sizes and descriptions littering her skin but they were healed and they at least weren't causing her pain. 

Yaz had just got home from work when the dial on her bracelet glowed. Knowing she had plenty of time, Yaz hurriedly had a shower and changed into normal clothes, the couple of times she had gone during work while in her uniform, the Doctor had refused to acknowledge her, before she collected the packet of custard creams she had for the Doctor. She tried to bring her a small gift during most visits, a few custard creams, a postcard for her room, flowers. Nothing huge or extravagant but enough to know that she was loved and cared about. 

The centre looked exactly the same as it always did, she was transported directly into the lobby where she had to sign in using a strand of hair still attached to her head, which was just about the strangest security system Yaz had come across, and confirm that she had nothing with her that a patient could use to hurt themselves before she was allowed in.

The Doctor's room was down a long corridor where the sickest patients lived, many of whom were long term residents. It was a horrible thought, but Yaz knew full well that if the Doctor didn't start to show some signs of improvement soon, she too might be looking at a life on this ward. 

The rooms were all monitored 24/7 though they weren't glass fronted so they at least felt private, even if they weren't. Yaz knocked lightly on the door and let herself in. The room was small but pleasant, a large window overlooked the garden and there was a desk underneath it. Against one wall was a bed and bedside table while on the other was a wardrobe and a door to the tiny ensuite and in the corner there was a comfortable armchair. Yaz had spent time in a psychiatric unit on earth when she was a teenager, this was a lot nicer. Usually, when Yaz arrived, the Doctor would be lying listlessly on the bed which was an improvement in itself, when she had first arrived she had insisted on lying under it and anyone wanting to talk to her had had to lie on the floor. It had been Graham who had finally broken her of that habit when one day he simply couldn't get up again and one of the healers had had to come to help. The next time he had come the Doctor had been on the bed, as she had been every time since.

But this time when Yaz arrived, the Doctor wasn't on the bed, she was curled up like a cat in the armchair and Yaz was astonished when she realised the Doctor was reading a book, wearing a pair of slightly nerdy looking glasses that suited her surprisingly well.

"Hi!" Yaz greeted, trying to keep the surprise out of her voice. "I didn't know you wore glasses." she added conversationally. 

Sometimes the Doctor managed to afford a glance in her direction, sometimes she didn't. This time she not only looked at Yaz, but she also actually smiled at her. A real, actual, albeit very tiny and nervous looking smile. It was the most acknowledgement Yaz had had from her in all the months she had been visiting. The Doctor still didn't speak. Not to her. Not to Ryan or Graham. Not to any of her therapists. She was vocal, especially when she was unhappy about something, there were just no words. 

The Doctor touched the frame of her glasses self-consciously. "They're nice, they suit you." Yaz reassured her. 

Yaz sat on the edge of the bed and put the packet of custard creams on the bedside cabinet where the Doctor would be able to see them. She had stopped bingeing food when she had access to it but Yaz knew there was a snowballs chance in hell of her opening the packet and offering to share it. 

"It's a beautiful day out there, have you gone out to enjoy it?" Yaz asked.

The Doctor lowered her head shyly in response. She didn't leave her room other than for therapy Yaz knew, and even then, it was only because she was forced into it. She never socialised with the other patients or explored the centres grounds. In fact, seeing her sitting there silent and still with a book was the most active Yaz had seen her.

"That's okay." Yaz reassured her. "Maybe some other time."

As she always did, Yaz stayed with the Doctor for a couple of hours. She chatted to her, a fully one sided conversation where she talked about what she had been up to at work, what her family were up to, anything she had done outside of work down to the most boring detail like how she had managed to fix her leaky shower. And as always the Doctor didn’t say a word.

Three days after her thirty first birthday, Yaz walked into her spare bedroom to check it one more time, making sure it was ready for its new occupant. Their personal effects were already placed carefully, bags already unpacked, clean sheets on the bed. It was ready. As it had been the twenty times she had already checked it that morning.

She glanced at her watch. Any minute now.

Yaz went back downstairs and checked her garage. The TARDIS, unsurprisingly, was parked right where she should be and Yaz hurried into the living room to wait for the Doctor.

For six long years she had been in the healing centre but today she was finally being discharged. Or rather, allowed to live away from the centre for the first time. She was still quite a long way from being discharged fully but living out was the first step. And while she took the next ones, she would be living with Yaz.

Yaz would be lying if she said she wasn’t incredibly nervous about it. She had gone through a lot of family therapy with the Doctor, Ryan and Graham, especially in the last few months and had attended countless meetings with the various specialists who were in charge of the Doctor’s care. Physically and emotionally, Yaz was as prepared as she was going to get. But it was such an enormous responsibility.

Her bracelet that she had worn every minute of every day for the past few years had been replaced with a different model that would allow her to call in the Doctor’s team of healers in an emergency, another setting that would allow her to accompany the Doctor to appointments and a third for scheduled meetings with other professionals. The Doctor would have her own bracelet that would track her movements, stop her from travelling off world, enable her to attend appointments and again, had an emergency setting. Unlike Yaz’s, hers could not be removed and if she tried it would only call in her healers.

In the living room Yaz paced anxiously, waiting for the Doctor to arrive. They had everything planned and scheduled but Yaz was on tenterhooks, worried that something would go wrong. The Doctor was far from a model patient. She had attacked numerous staff during her stay, had self-harmed and even attempted suicide on four separate occasions. She had nearly managed it. She had remained mute for the best part of three years. She had refused to cooperate with the people who were trying to help her the most. Even now, she was nothing like the Doctor they had all travelled with. She was quiet, withdrawn, her attention span was no better than it had ever been, but it didn’t result in hyperactivity the way it once had, instead she retreated into herself, sometimes for hours or even days at a time. And she almost never smiled.

There was a small, familiar popping sound from the back garden and Yaz hurried outside. There she was. Yaz crossed the lawn and pulled the Doctor into a warm, gentle embrace.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” She whispered before stepping back to look at her friend properly.

She was thin but not too thin anymore. Her colour had returned. Gone were the rainbows, instead she was wearing a baggy, shapeless, navy blue jumper, trousers and boots while her hair had been cut back into the chin length bob she had always worn it in. Yaz wrapped her arm around her and steered her towards the house, relieved as she always was now that the Doctor could walk properly again after finally allowing her feet to be treated about six months previously. When she had explained to Yaz how they had been hurt in the first place… well Yaz could understand why she hadn’t let anyone near them again.

The Doctor had visited the house on many occasions to acclimatise herself to it, had stayed over even but Yaz could see how nervous she was.

“Cup of tea Doctor?” Yaz offered from the kitchen, the Doctor was standing by the patio doors looking lost and confused.

She nodded.

Yaz made the drinks and produced a packet of biscuits which she laid on the island in the middle of the room. She didn’t comment as the Doctor inched across to join her, painfully slowly as if Yaz was going to snatch the food away from her. But eventually she made it and slid herself into a seat, managing to force herself to drink the tea slowly.

“I missed you Yaz.” She said with a tiny smile.

Later that week, Ryan and Graham came round to visit, their first since the Doctor had gotten home as they hadn’t wanted to overwhelm her.

And as the four of them sat in the back garden with the sky darkening around them, the Doctor curled up like a cat on a wooden deck chair, a blanket draped around her shoulders and her fam right there with her, Yaz knew she would be okay. Maybe not right now and maybe not for a while, bit she would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thankyou for all your support and encouragement while I've been writing this, if you liked it I would love it if you could leave me a comment!

**Author's Note:**

> All the comfort in the next chapter!


End file.
